We’re pretty much all tapped out in the synapses department. It’s quite likely that we’ll spend some small portion of this weekend sitting in an emotionally precarious position with a bowl of corn flakes, watching the first season of The Muppet Show on DVD. Which is not really all that different from days that we clearly recall several decades ago. Yes, that’s how bad it’s gotten, folks. Even our vernacular has been reduced to such genius assessments as, “It’s a nice day. I like it when the sun comes out.”
We need to recover. From what, we’re not quite sure.
So instead, we’ll point to Our Pal the Rake‘s review of Bret Easton Ellis’ Lunar Park. Also check out Patricia Storm’s latest comic, offering inventions for authors on a book tour.
Also of note: Roger Ebert seems to be hitting the snark these days. Check out this week’s thoughtful evisceration of a letter sent by the producers of Chaos and last week’s zero-star review of Deuce Bigalow: European Gigolo.
For those of you who’ve emailed about the explosion, I assure you it’s not Beirut here in San Francisco. It’s really quite simple: our local utility company here is notoriously incompetent. Nothing to see here. Move along.